


Gifts From Dean

by magical_girl_394



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: AJ is Dean's number one fan, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bayley gets Dean's name wrong, Cute, Dean is a pro wrestler, F/M, Fangirls, Mild Language, ULTRA CUTE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2409233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magical_girl_394/pseuds/magical_girl_394
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Huh... this stand ain't half that bad, is it?" came a man's voice.</p>
<p>I raised my eyebrows, turning my head to the direction of where the voice was coming from. Spinning around, I looked up at the man with the soft, yet rough, tone. My eyes widened; I could feel my face burn down to my neck.</p>
<p>"Mr. Ambrose..." I murmured.</p>
<p>"Hello, AJ," he spoke. His words sounded like a harpsichord to me, just absolutely beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gifts From Dean

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story that was (more or less) inspired by the Ringside Fest that took place a few days ago. I could kind of hear his voice in my head as I wrote this. :P It's kind of a corny story, but I hope you guys enjoy it!! :3

One hug.

That's all I ever wanted.

I've been wanting to touch this man ever since I first laid eyes on him.

Dean Ambrose.

I've been a fan of his as far back as I can remember. I remember watching matches of his when he was in Full Impact Pro Wrestling, Combat Zone Wrestling... you name it, I've seen it.

I guess you can call me his number one fan.

Despite the fact that he doesn't go by Jon Moxley anymore, I continued to watch him in the ring, and I stayed on the Ambrose bandwagon. I know other fans that have abandoned him, all because he now wrestles in a PG environment that is known as the WWE. That doesn't matter to me. He's always caught my attention, and it'll always stay that way.

I've been to live events where I was able to take photos of him. I've been to live episodes of either Raw or SmackDown, with me sitting in the front row, and he'd smile directly at me. Unfortunately, I've never really been face-to-face with this man before.

But that's going to change tonight.

One hug is what I aim to get from this man. And this I shall get.

•••

"They're holding a meet-and-greet tonight at the Prudential Center. Are you coming with, Bayley?" I asked, as I played with my bedspread.

"I don't know, AJ," Bayley replied. "What's in it for me?"

I got up off of my bed, walking over to my closet. Opening the door, I rummaged through my clothes, pulling out a special something. I turned around with a small grin on my face. "I'll let you wear my Raphael costume for Halloween this year."

"Deal!!" Bayley squealed.

I smiled as Bayley pranced around, after agreeing with the bargain that I made with her.

Bayley stopped for a brief moment. "Hey, AJ?"

"Yeah?"

"Who is that guy we're going to go see again? What's his name... Good Moxley, or something like that?"

"No, Bayley," I sighed. "It's Dean Ambrose."

"Right," she slowly answered.

Heading over to my dresser, I asked, "How can you call yourself a wrestling fan if you've never heard of Dean Ambrose, let alone get his name right?"

"I've heard of Dean Ambrose," she said. "It's just that I've ne'er paid any attention to him before. He's kind of boring. I'm just more into Dolph Ziggler, and Bo Dallas."

I spun around on my heels, with my camera in my hands. I had an unimpressed look on my face. "Really?" I shook my head. "I'm fairly certain that Ambrose has more talent than the two of those jobbers put together."

"Eh," Bayley shrugged.

"Anyway," I said, "we should probably get ready now. I know that the meet-and-greet is only a few hours away, but I'd like to steer clear of any crazy lines, or nutso fangirls."

"But AJ... you're one of those nutso fangirls," Bayley retorted.

I frowned.

"You have five times the merch that I have; you have every single DVD that he's featured on... hell, even your walls are covered in posters of him. Not to mention the countless pieces of Ambrose clothing that are hanging up in your closet, or crammed in your dresser drawers..."

"Okay, okay. I get the point," I breathed. "Maybe I am a bit obsessed."

"A bit?" Bayley laughed.

"Yes, a bit," I sneered.

"Okay, jeez. Don't get your undies in a knot," Bayley replied, putting her hands up in defense.

I grabbed my duffel bag. "All right... I'm just about ready. I just need to get changed." Rummaging through my dresser, I pulled out my favorite Ambrose black t-shirt, and a pair of blue jeans that happened to be ripped at the knees, just like Dean's.

Bayley looked at my shirt. "Explicit Mox Violence?" she read aloud. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means it's something that you'll never understand, unless you're a true Dean Ambrose fan... such as myself," I answered.

Bayley blinked.

"Now, if you don't mind," I continued, "I need to get dressed. I want to look appropriate if I'm going to meet the Titty Master."

"Titty Master?!!" Bayley shrieked. "He's a wrestler, AND a pervert?"

I sighed, feeling a bit agitated. "No, Bayley. Please leave now."

"Fine, but be quick. If you take any longer than ten minutes, I'm taking the car, and leaving without you," she said on her way out the door.

•••

We arrived at Prudential Center about half an hour after leaving my house. We were able to find a decent parking spot across the street. As Bayley shut off the ignition, I looked out of my passenger window, and noticed that there were already about a dozen or so vehicles parked in the lot.

"Well, at least it's not overly crowded," Bayley said, reading my thoughts. 

I looked over at her; she, too, was staring out of the window.

"Yeah," I agreed.

Nodding, Bayley said, "Okay. Let's get this show started."

We got out of the car, grabbing our bags. Grinning, I marched my way to the building. Bayley had a hard time keeping up; I was walking too fast. I couldn't help it. I was nerved up and excited, and I could hardly contain myself. I was positive about how this experience would turn out.

We reached the front doors of the building, stopping in our tracks. I sighed deeply, my nerves trying to get the best of me. I turned my gaze to Bayley, only to realize that she was watching me.

"You ready?" she asked.

"I was born ready," I replied.

Bayley smiled. With one look at the doors, we inhaled and pushed them open. We stepped in, quickly noticing the crowds. It was definitely a lot more filled up inside than originally anticipated. I looked around to see all of the people that were wandering. Some of them were holding signs; a few of them were dressed up in Ambrose's merchandise, just like myself. If I had to guess, there was probably around one hundred or so people here.

I began walking a bit, taking a look at what the fans had on, and also taking glimpses of the area where Dean Ambrose would be sitting at. His booth was fairly simple: a black chair, the same ones you'd find at ringside; a wooden table; a cardboard cutout of himself, wearing his black "Explicit Mox Violence" t-shirt; behind the table and chair, there was a stand that has photos of himself all over it, and at the top was a white banner that read, "Meet-And-Greet With The Lunatic Fringe Himself, Dean Ambrose, Here!!" There seemed to be a bit of an archway, with curtains drawn in the stand. 

'I guess this is where he'll be entering from,' I thought.

"Huh... this stand ain't half that bad, is it?" came a man's voice.

I raised my eyebrows, turning my head to the direction of where the voice was coming from. Spinning around, I looked up at the man with the soft, yet rough, tone. My eyes widened; I could feel my face burn down to my neck.

"Mr. Ambrose..." I murmured.

"Hello, AJ," he spoke. His words sounded like a harpsichord to me, just absolutely beautiful.

I was dumbfounded; I didn't know what to say. All I could do was grin like a fool.

"AJ!!"

I shook my head. I realized that Bayley was standing in front of me, trying to get my attention.

"It's about time you snapped out of it," she said. "You've been drooling over his sitting area for quite a while. I was starting to worry about you."

Clearing my throat awkwardly, I answered. "Yeah... I'm fine. I was just..."

"I know what you were doing. You were fangirling," Bayley chuckled.

"Just a bit," I admitted.

Now that I was back to reality, I saw that more people had already entered the building. As distracted as I was, I didn't hear anybody come in. There seemed to be well more than one hundred people that had bustled their way in. I shifted in my spot. My head started to feel clammy.

"Nervous?" Bayley asked.

"A bit. Crowds suck."

Bayley nodded her head. "Well, I guess we should find a place to sit. Who knows how long it'll take for Dean to arrive."

"Okay," I replied.

We made our way through the crowds of bystanders, searching for a bench to park ourselves on. We found a nice spot that was unclaimed near the entrance, so there we sat, waiting. I had a look-see at the bunches of fans that stood in third spots, chatting away excitedly over the soon-to-be arrival of Dean Ambrose.

I put my head against the wall, sighing as I shut my eyes. As I did so, the lights went out. The entire hall filled with shouts and scream. I heard terrified girls ask what ha happened to the lights. I felt Bayley cling onto me; she's not a big fan of the dark.

Suddenly, we all heard static coming from hidden speakers. I tried to leer through the darkness, but it failed. I crinkled my nose, feeling a tad annoyed.

Out of the blue, there came a magnified voice.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Prudential Center. Thank you for coming. Now, for the one man that you've all been waiting for... the man known to some as Jon Moxley, others as the Lunatic Fringe, here he is..."

Before the person finished their sentence, the speakers crackled once more. "Retaliation" began booming throughout the hall. My heart skipped a beat.

"Dean Ambrose!!"

The lights flicked on, and there he was, throwing the curtains back to reveal himself. The view was astounding. He had a white muscle shirt on, ripped blue jeans, and a black leather jacket. The stomping of his boots on the floor was barely audible to me, because of the cries of his fans.

I brought out my camera, and snapped a few well-taken photos of him. He sat down, as everyone's voices and his theme song died down. Smiling, he grabbed a microphone that just so happened to be in front of him.

"I'm surprised that so many of you came out for me tonight," he drawled.

The cheering started back up once more. I couldn't help but smile. Bayley nudged me, whispering in my ear.

"You know, he's pretty hot in person."

I blushed. "Yes, he is."

Dean scanned the large audience that ogled him. Everyone fell slightly silent. "I think I see a few familiar faces here." Just then, his sea-colored eyes fell onto me. He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Yes... I definitely see familiar fans here."

My heart skipped again.

"Is he talking about you?" Bayley asked.

I was tongue-tied. All I could manage to spew out of my mouth was muttered, excited gibberish. I felt like passing out; he had his eyes locked on me, and I felt paralyzed.

Then, he spoke directly to me. Me. Out of everyone in the room, he spoke to me. 

"Excuse me, miss," he said. 

My brain scrambled. 

"Would you mind coming up to the table for a brief moment?" He flashed his white pearls at me; if his grin was any bigger, it would've stretched beyond his ears.

I stood up, swallowing a lump. I looked down at Bayley, who was also smiling at me.

"Go on!! Go get 'em!!" she mouthed, shoving me a bit.

Recollecting myself, I made my way to the table. I had my camera with me, not wanting to miss a golden opportunity like this. I tripped a little bit, but was able to regain my footing. I brushed my hair behind my ear, embarrassed.

I reached the table, not knowing what to do next. The crowd clapped, apparently happy that Dean let a fan come over to where he sat. That, or they were jealous. Either way, I couldn't tell. Nor did I care right now.

Dean raised the microphone back to his lips, quieting the assembly. "I've seen you at some of the shows. You always have a sign especially made for me. You even sit in the front row, too, just so you can see me. We never did get properly acquainted, did we?"

I slowly shook my head. 

"So, tell me... what's your name?"

I blinked. My heart was beating rapidly. I was scared, shy, ecstatic, and ready to wet myself all at the same time. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Oh, don't be nervous, sweetheart," he gently chided. "We've finally met, and I'd love to know what your name is." The way he addressed me was too polite to believe, but I loved it. He was coming off as the nicest person in the world... I never imagined that Dean Ambrose would be this prim and proper to his fans.

I opened my mouth again, a small stutter escaping my lips. Leaning towards his mic, I blurted, "April. My name is April. Everybody calls me AJ, though."

"AJ, huh? That's a pretty name for a pretty little lady."

I hung my head. I wanted to cry. On the inside, I wanted to scream.

"How long have you been a fan of me for, AJ? How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

Raising my head, I responded. "Ever since you debuted. When you were wrestling in the Indies, I had friends that lent me recorded tapes of you in some matches. I was instantly hooked. I began watching you in two thousand four, and I still continue to, sir. Also, I'm twenty-two years old, Mr. Ambrose."

Dean smirked. "I guess you have the right to be titled my biggest fan. You seem like an intelligent woman for someone that looks so young." I smiled. "So, since I dubbed you as my biggest fan, I have a few presents that I'd like to give to you. Is that okay with you?"

Nodding my head, I confirmed his request.

"Okay, sounds good. You may want to get your pigtailed friend to take a video of this," he suggested, pointing to Bayley.

I cocked my head sideways, confused. Without hesitation, she ran over, taking the camera from me. Dean stood up from his chair, motioning me to come over. The crowd stared us down. I saw a few people glare. I walked over beside him, as Bayley began recording everything that was going on. I stood in front of this wonderfully kind man, waiting to see what would happen next.

Dean took a few steps toward me. "My first gift to you..." he began. He wrapped his arms around me, giving me the most comfortable hug imaginable. Everyone gawked in awe, swooning as I received my first present. I wrapped my arms around him, as well. I felt like I was squeezing a plastic teddy bear. I buried my head into his chest, breathing him in. I could swear my eyes were starting to well up a little.

Letting me go slowly, he continued. "Your second present... is something that contains a lot of of fun memories for me, from my Indy days." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out something as dark as his coat. "Close your eyes, and hold out your hands," he instructed.

I did so, gladly. My eyes were shut tight, and my hands were stuck out, not expecting what to get. I then felt a soft material land in my palms. I pondered what this could've been.

"Open your eyes, beautiful," he crooned.

I looked down, my jaw dropping in shock. It was his Jon Moxley wrestling trunks. I squealed, jumping up and down in place. I couldn't contain myself any longer. It didn't matter if I looked like an idiot right now; I was on Cloud Nine, and I didn't want to come down.

Dean, as did everyone else, laughed. "They're clean, too, so you don't have to worry about them smelling like a century old gym bag," he added. He then turned to the table, picking up a photo of himself, and a Sharpie. He signed it in front of me, and everyone else.

"The third one is the first autographed picture of me of the night. I'm giving you a second one, too; one to frame, and another to have for the sake of possessing it."

After signing both, he handed them to me. He smiled the entire time, as did I.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Ambrose!!" I nearly screamed.

Dean spoke again. "I have two more gifts for you, Miss April. I hope you like them." He stepped back, taking off his jacket and emptying his pockets. I felt befuddled, not knowing what exactly what he had planned.

"Here," he said, handing me his trademark jacket.

My mouth fell once again. "Holy shit!!" I yelled in shock.

Everyone laughed, making my face hot a bit.

"Such foul words shouldn't escape those pretty lips," Ambrose muttered to me.

I couldn't stop turning red. I must've looked like a tomato ready to explode during our entire interaction.

"C'mere," he gestured.

"Okay," I muttered my response. 'Oh, great,' I thought. 'I swore in front of Dean Ambrose, and now I'm in trouble for it. He's probably going to take all of this stuff back.'

Dean stares me down as I approached him. "For my final gift to you, AJ, I give you this... something that I'd never give to any of my other fans. You're my number one fan, and a cute looking chick... so now, I present to you my final gift."

He placed his soft hands on my cheeks. My gaze got lost in his ocean-churned eyes, admiring this handsomely rugged man. My heart skipped a few beats. I developed a lump in my throat. If my body kept going on like this, I would end up fainting before getting my last gift.

A kiss on my mouth.

Everybody wooed, clapping and whistled. I melted, shutting my eyes. My hands touched his face, ever so softly, as he planted a moist smooch on me. It lasted about a minute or so before he broke it off. He nibbled on my lip at the end of it. 

Pulling back, he grinned nonchalantly. "Those were my gifts to you, Miss AJ. I'm happy that we finally met today. I hope to see you at many more wrestling events."

Tears spilled down my face. "Yes, Dean. Thank you."

Facing the crowd, Dean said, "Okay. Who's ready for some autographs?"

The audience applauded, yelling and cheering. They made a single file line as Dean took his seat.

"Holy. Freaking. Shit!!" Bayley yelled, walking to me. "I can't believe that all of this just happened to you!!"

Wiping the tears from my face, I giggled. "I know. I hope I never get amnesia. I never want to forget any of this."

"No need to worry about that," Bayley chided. "I recorded every single second of it. You won't be forgetting any of this anytime soon."

I watched Dean signing autographs, having pictures being taken with him. He caught me watching. I stared in another direction. When I thought the coast was clear, I found him still looking at me.

He winked.

I hung my head again, shuffling my feet. I played with my new items, noticing what looked like a piece of paper that was tumbling out of his wrestling trunks. I took it out and opened it, placing my belongings on the floor. It was a note from Dean.

'To my biggest fan... here's my number. Call me if you need anything. -Mox XX'

Kissing the piece of paper, I stuck it in my jeans pocket.

"Let's get out of here," Bayley spoke. "I think I've had enough romance and fangirling for one day."

She helped me carry my things, and we headed to the car. I thought to myself, 'I'm going to need to repay him somehow. This was the best night of my life.' I grinned, as Bayley absentmindedly chatted away. 

'Thanks, Mox.'

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave comments on this piece. Feedback is appreciated. Thanks!! :D


End file.
